She hooked her fingers into her overcoat and ripped it open, sending varnished brass buttons flying in every direction. The wanton destruction of her dear friend and ally panged deep in her conscience, but she could mend it later. Unveiling a Magical Girl costume even she had a hard time remembering, she quickly swaddled the coat around her good arm and wrapped it tight in the fur-lined fabric to form an oversized makeshift glove. She sprinted until she reached the edge of the black pool and jumped. There was no safe landing on the other side; it was either into the mire or into the chasm. She had one chance to make this work.

Her frilly golden ensemble glowed in the dimness of the cave and reflected in the oil. Sloan had a few torturous moments to gander at herself in full regalia, fighting back the urge to grimace at her ridiculousness. Then the moment passed and the katana appeared beneath her, aflame with light. She swiped the hand wrapped in overcoat and through the fabric seized the hilt.

As soon as her grip was secure, she flipped in midair and employed the centrifugal force to launch the katana at the worm-wraith looming up to devour her. The stainless blade sailed through the open mouth and into the lower jaw, impaling the flesh to the ground beneath it.

(Chapter 6)